The Art Of Being Plastic
by DrakoSquirtle
Summary: He knew Gretchen Weiners was plastic; both inside and out. And plastic, could never break. ... although there was a part of him, that knew... hoped, that Gretchen Weiners was more than plastic. That perhaps she was like him. That she was glass; and you never notice glass, unless it's broken. Gretchen/OC ... because she deserved better. *ON HIATUS*
1. Glass & Plastic

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mean Girls… I wish though.**

 **Author's Note: Listened to 'Mister Glassman' by Scotty Sire; now I'm here. Tell me what you think, and I might make this a series**

* * *

 _ **1.0**_

* * *

The first time Tino Vitale met 'The Plastics', he was beginning to understand the whisper that surrounded them.

It was only 7:25 am.

School started more than an hour and a half from now, but Tino eagerly – yet quietly – walked down the quaint, sleepy hallways of North Shore High.

As he approached the drama hallway, he made a sharp right; his walking now turning into a light jog.

Tino smiled, coming to an abrupt stop in front of a large bulletin board; large cut-out letter reading, _"TEAM NEWS",_ topped the frame.

"You're just in time," said a voice behind him.

Tino turned, Coach Carr strutted his way, a single piece of paper in his hand. "I couldn't wait 'till school started, so I came early."

Coach Carr gave a nervous laugh, as he stapled the page to the bulletin.

"Did I make it Coach?" asked Tino.

Carr bit his lip, slowly walking backwards to his office. "Uh… why don't you see for yourself?"

Tino nodded, dropping his knapsack down to the floor, as he frantically searched for his name.

" _NORTH SHORE FOOTBALL TEAM",_ read the title of the page, a long list of names below

" _Aaron Samuels… Freddie Reginald… Shane Oman… Zachary Acton… Alfie Stewart…"_

The more he made his way down the list, the more quickly a pit in his stomach began to form.

Tino gave a trembled sigh, nervously checking the list once more.

But it was no use. He could've re-checked the list a million times if he liked; but it was, what it was.

"… I didn't make it."

Tino looked over to Coach Carr, who slowly made his way to the disheartened boy. "I really thought I would make it this year."

"…I'm sorry Tino," Carr consoled. "You've got great character bud, I appreciate every effort you put in by coming early and setting up, and by staying late and cleaning up. But your football is… to put it bluntly …plain…. awful."

Ouch.

Tino sighed. "But I tidied up my runs… and… and my throws Coach! I can finally throw the ball in a spiral!" he urged; panic and yearning evident in his tone.

Coach Carr crossed his arm, his eyebrows drawing together. "I…. erm… the team just can't have a repeat of last season, Tino! You remember how bad we were?"

Tino's shoulders slouched, "I guess losing all our games, and getting disqualified for flipping off the referee _**is**_ as bad as it gets."

"Thanks for understanding, Tino. And hey…" Coach Carr pointed his finger at another page on the bulletin, a small – yet perhaps sly- smile etching onto his face. "…not all hope is lost."

Tino looked at the page, " _FOOTBALL MANAGEMENT"_ was written in a bold, comic-sans font.

His name was the first one on the list.

 _TINO VITALE – WATERBOY_

Double ouch.

"Leave football to the guys who can do it, 'kay?"

Tino opened his mouth to respond but before he could, he heard a voice from the other side of the hallway.

"BABY!"

Tino turned his head and saw Trang Park walk his way.

He looks to Coach Carr, whose face was turning red. "Um… like I said Tino, stay strong… and uh... yeah…. bye!"

And quickly, he walks towards Trang Park; dragging her towards a janitor's closet.

Tino sighs, as he looks down at his watch.

" _7:40 A.M."_

He awkwardly shuffles in place for a while, until finally settling to go to the library.

He needed to review for his English quiz anyway.

* * *

As Tino entered the library, you would assume that the first thing he'd notice would be the broken cart of books, or strong scent of strawberry perfume.

Because, quite honestly, it should've been.

But in fact, what he first noticed was the table of girls that were arguing with each other at the very back of the library.

As he began walking to an empty table, he found it difficult to take his eyes off them. It wasn't everyday he – or anyone in particular - saw these 3 particular girls arguing.

They were always so well-maintained; hearts made of stone, and faces caked with makeup.

But else could anyone expect? The 3 girls in question, were _plastic_ after all.

And plastic never breaks; no matter how hard you want it to.

He managed to find a table next to theirs, and he sat down; taking out his books and binders. He opened his copy of Julius Ceasar to the beginning of Act I; in order to review the act once more for his upcoming quiz.

But no matter how hard he tried to focus, Tino found it difficult to do so; his ears, and mind, wondering off to what the girls next to him were saying:

"Okay, just give me the main details; what happens in Act I of Julius Caesar?"

"Oh my god! I love Caesar! I eat it every day for lunch!"

"Karen, that's a Caesar salad…"

"Duh! What's your point?"

"You two focus! Ugh, I need a copy of the script. Gretchen?"

Suddenly it became tone-deaf.

Tino bit his lip, his eyes slowly wandering over to their table;

As he did, he saw Regina George, Gretchen Weiners, and Karen Smith all sitting down; however, their usual neat and intimidating persona, was now filled with panic and anxiety.

"Hellooo? I forgot my script. Gretchen gimme yours." Regina ordered neatly.

Gretchen fidgeted with her pen. "I.. uh… thought you were going to bring yours."

Regina furrowed her brow; it seemed for a minute that she was going to blow, but the tension quickly vanished from her face. "Karen, I need your copy of Julius Ceasar."

Karen gave a small chuckle. "I don't have it _**now**_. I'm going to buy it for lunch!"

Regina pinches the bridges of her noses in annoyance. "God, I am surrounded by dumbasses," she says in a chuckle. "I am failing English, and instead of helping study for this stupid quiz, you're trying to get me to fail."

Gretchen shakes her head furiously, "No no no, Regina it isn't like that! We-"

"-save it Gretchen."

Tino looks over to the brunette, who – surprisingly, out of nowhere – turns to meet his gaze.

The eye contact between the two is brief, yet awkward. And suddenly- just like that, he feels self-conscious. He fumbles with the pages of his script, and suddenly a light-bulb goes off in his mind.

He sighs, closing his book and shifting over to the edge of his seat. "Excuse me…?" he whispers.

But they don't seem to notice. "Excuse me? …. Uh excuse me? Excuse –"

"I heard you the first time!" snaps Regina. "What?"

Tino opens his mouth to speak, but suddenly it feels that all the voice in him has left. And for a second, he just stares open-mouthed. "Do you… uh, want to borrow the script?"

Regina stares at him for a while, a bit of confusion and annoyance evident on her face. "Excuse me? But do I know you?"

"I'm…. Tino… uh… I'm in Gretchen's English class."

Gretchen furrows her brow, "You are?"

Tino pouted. "I sit in front of you…", he mumbles. "Listen you can have the script, just return it in English."

Gretchen looks at the script being offered to her for a second. Her face showing mixed emotions of both confusion and sincerity, before taking the playbook, and passing it along to Regina; who plucks it from Gretchen's grasp, and begins to frantically go through it.

No 'thank you'; no nothing.

Tino sits awkwardly for a second, trying not to look over at the girls next to him; before finally deciding to pack his things and head out.

And as he makes his way to the exit, the corners of his mouth can't help but curve into a small smile.

It wasn't everyday someone talked to The Plastics, unscathed and un-dissed.

* * *

And as he walked to first period English, that was the only thing on his mind.

" **Another announcement regarding the football team: the team list has been posted outside Coach Carr's office; so please check to see if you've made the team**."

Tino sat in his desk, the P.A system crackling to life with the morning announcements.

He tapped his pencil against the edge of his desk; trying to recall the major events of Act I of Julius Ceasar, for the quiz that was about to start.

" _Ceasar attends a traditional race… Cassius tries to persuade Brutus to turn against Ceasar… terrible storm happens, and Casca believes it's a bad omen. …"_

*THUD*

The sound of something falling was light, yet recognizable. And as Tino looked down at his desk, he saw his copy of Julius Ceasar; a lipstick stain gracing the corner of the playbook

He looks up, and sees Gretchen Weiners looking over him.

"I just… um… wanted to say thank you," She slowly confesses. "Regina gets very… uh… moody when things don't go her way, and I appreciate you helping out.

Tino gives a small smile. "No worries… I uh… I mean…. like … yeah…. yeah." he suddenly furrows his brow, and points at the lipstick stain.

Gretchen bites her lip. "Karen needed to blot off excess lipstick… and uh… your copy of Julius Ceasar was… um… convenient."

Tino chuckled. "Yeah?"

Gretchen nodded, a small giggle escaping her too. "Yeah."

For a split-second it felt was if she was going to kiss him; and if this was a rom-com, she might've.

But she just stood there; giving a small smile, before making her way to the back of the class; where all the boys were discussing who had made it to the football team.

Tino fidgeted with his eraser. A strange type of disappointment filling him.

Perhaps because the dismay of him not making the team was still bothering him.

Or perhaps because he **expected** more from Gretchen Weiners; a break from her usual petty and stiff character.

Tino chuckled. Who was he kidding?

The whole school knew Gretchen Weiners was plastic; and plastic never broke.

Although he was sure – he hoped, that somewhere inside, there was part that was urging to.


	2. Brutus & Portia

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mean Girls… I wish though.**

 **Author's Note: Chapter 2, yay! Not sure if Karen is out of character; tried to stay true to the film.**

 _ **2.0**_

* * *

Gretchen Weiners had a problem.

Wait, actually… scratch that. Gretchen Weiners had _**multiple**_ problems.

Between having a near-failing grade in half her courses, attempting to juggle the Plastics' schedule, and trying not to think too much about the chick Jason was screwing; trying to distinguish which was worse was proving to be a challenge for her.

Gretchen sighed, as she looked up; reading the time from the clock which was above the classroom's doorframe.

 _9:05 a.m._

She groaned. It felt as if she had been in 1st period English forever; however, there was still a good half an hour left.

After looking around the class mindlessly, she finally looked down at her copy of Julius Caesar, and corresponding questions that needed to be done; a twinge of displeasure washing over her.

Gretchen gave a small groan, before forcing herself to pick up her pencil and writing something on her page.

She looked at the first question;

 _Why does Brutus' wife, Portia, stab herself in the thigh?_

Gretchen bit his lip as she flipped through her book; _"Why the hell_ _ **did**_ _she stab herself?"_

After spending a couple more minutes deciphering Shakespearean English, Gretchen realized she was going to get no where at this rate.

She looked around the class; everyone seemed engrossed in the questions – as if a strange sense of productivity had washed over every single one of them. Every single one, except her.

" _The one time the class is productive… ugh,"_

Suddenly Gretchen gets an idea. She looks to her right, and see's Kevin Gnapoor furiously writing.

"Psst… Kevin!" she whispers, leaning over her chair.

Kevin looks up and turns his head towards Gretchen. "What do you want Weiners?"

Gretchen curled her lips, "First of all, last name is off limits. Secondly, what did you get for the first question?"

Kevin grinned, covering his page with his arm. "Get me a date with a cheerleader, and I might just tell you."

Gretchen gave an icy stare, the corners of her mouth curling into a small frown. "You know what? Eff. You."

Kevin shrugged, "Suit yourself.". And with that, he turned back to his English work.

Gretchen sighed, contemplating whether that was the best response to give. She looked around, there was no one else in the class who would help her.

" _Well… actually…."_

Gretchen looked in front of her. The back of a boy was all she could see.

She considered whether to bother him or not; he wasn't the best talker, and the last thing she needed was to make a scene in English class.

She looked down at her blank page and frowned. _"Screw it, I need help."_

She got up slowly and leaned over her desk, tapping the back of the boy sitting in front with her pencil.

"Uh… Thomas?" she whispered,

Suddenly the boy turned around, his face full of surprise and sheepishness.

Gretchen smiled. "Hey Thomas, I was wondering if you could help me with one of the questions?"

The boy nodded furiously, his nose wrinkling slightly. "It's… uh, Tino." He mumbled.

Gretchen turned red. "Right… right! Sorry, I just thought… anyway, I needed some help with the questions."

Tino nodded, turning his chair so the front side could face her. He placed his paper on her desk and brought his copy of Julius Caesar as well. "Which question?"

Gretchen bit her lip, "… all of them…" she murmured.

Tino gave a small smile. "Alright. So, the first question… it asks why-"

"- Why did Portia stab herself in the thigh?" Gretchen said, finishing the boy's sentence.

Tino nodded, "Exactly. Do you… uh… remember why?"

Gretchen pursed her lips, propping chin. "Uh… did she do it because… because she was wearing a really ugly dress, and that was her way of telling Brutus 'I hate this dress'?"

Tino smiled. "I'm sure she was thinking that… but that isn't it."

Gretchen shrugged, giving a small frown, "I dunno, I can't remember."

Tino opened his book, opening to a specific page; he turned it towards Gretchen, allowing her to see it. "Well… Brutus was extremely secretive around his wife, Portia; however, she argues that she is a kind and strong woman – not to mention also his wife. She wishes for Brutus to trust her with his secrets."

Gretchen nods, as her furiously writes everything down. "And…?"

Tino fidgets with his pencil. "And…. and in order to prove this, she stabs herself in the thigh."

Gretchen winces, her jaw clenching; "Why would she do such a thing?"

Tino cocks his head, a small smile fixing on his face. "Because she wanted to show Brutus that she can tolerate pain and handle difficulties; and could handle the burden that was tearing Brutus apart."

Gretchen shook her head, her lips coming together to form a shaky smile. "But Brutus… he was only keeping those secrets from Portia because he loves her… he didn't want her to burden herself with _**his**_ problems."

Tino a sheepish smile, his eyes – trying to- avoid the gaze of the girl in front of him. "Well when… when… when you love someone," he started, his words coming out slowly; as if he was trying to pick and choose and the best ones. "… when you love someone… it doesn't matter how heavy the burden is, or how dark the secrets are; whatever you do, you'll do together. Brutus and Portia will try to overcome any feat… together."

"And if they fail?" Gretchen mumbled.

"… then Brutus and Portia will do that together too."

 ***RING**RING**RING***

The school bell rang loud and clear; indicating the end of period 1. But as the rest of the class began to pack their things and headed out to 2nd period; Gretchen and Tino sat in their seats for a moment more.

Until finally Tino grabbed his page, and book. "Um… we only got to question 1. I can help you with the rest tomorrow?" he asked, packing his things.

Gretchen nodded, as she put her pencils back in her pencil case. "Yeah… that uh… sounds good."

Tino nodded, he slipped on his bag; as he awkwardly walked a couple of steps backwards. "So… uh, I guess I'll see you… tomorrow. Unless! Of course, I see you… uh… around school… and-"

Gretchen smiled softly. "Bye Tino."

The young boy gave a sheepish smile. "Bye!". And with that, he frantically made this way out the door; well, not before colliding with the doorframe that is.

Gretchen sighed, as she grabbed her stuff and made her way out the classroom and to her 2nd period class.

As she walked the crowded hallway, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She turned, only to see Karen strutting next to her.

"Hey-o!"

Gretchen smiled. "Hey Karen, how was study hall?"

Karen smiled blithely. "It was good! I learned that apparently Julius Caesar is also a book? Ha! Who knew?"

Gretchen nodded, as she made her way to a locker; turning the lock to a certain combination and opening it. "Go figure! Well at least you can finally save your failing English grade."

Karen leaned against a nearby locker, a frown fixing onto her face. "How do you know I'm failing?"

Gretchen closed her locker. "When are you not failing Karen?" she says with a smirk, and looks over to Karen; expecting a giggle, or a laugh.

But instead, she got a crestfallen face. And it was at times like this that she wished Karen was better at hiding her insecurity.

Gretchen stood awkwardly in place for a moment, before putting a hand on her shoulder. "… I… uh… didn't mean for it come out like … that."

Karen nodded, a small -rather forceful – smile tugged at the corners of her mouth; but Gretchen could see right through it. "It's okay, I don't really care." She murmurs.

Gretchen looks down, trying to fix her gaze on anything other than Karen. "Listen, I need to get to pre-calculus."

Karen nods, "Yeah, I need to get to Chemistry."

Gretchen raised an eyebrow. "I thought you dropped that course; wasn't it too tough?"

"Yeah, but I can't find the time to go ask the guidance counselor." Karen confesses, as she examines her nails. "I was going to go today after school, but Regina said we're going shopping."

"I… I can take you right now." mumbles Gretchen.

Karen furrows her brow, as she seems a bit taken back by the offer. "But you have class to get to." She notes. "….. and besides, I wouldn't want to… like …. give you trouble."

Gretchen smiles; it's a smile she can't help but show. As the conversation begins to remind her of something she had just read. "… what kind of friend would I be if I couldn't help you carry your troubles?"

Gretchen takes a couple of steps forward, and then looks back. "C'mon. If we leave now, I _might_ only miss half of class."

Karen jogs towards her, sputtering out multiple "thank you"s and "I owe you"s.

But Gretchen just smiles.

Because yes, Gretchen Weiners had a few problems. But at that specific moment, it seemed as if the world was conspiring with her; _**for**_ her.


	3. The Fool & The Villian

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mean Girls… I wish though.**

 **Author's Note: So, it's been a while… but I finally have chapter 3… enjoy!**

 **p.s: if story comes out strange, trying opening it on the app: should work.**

* * *

 ** _3.0_**

* * *

"HEY! Water Boy! Pass a bottle." yelled a voice from across the football field.

Tino Vitale groaned, as he got up from the (uncomfortable) bleacher he was sitting on; walking over to a bright orange cooler. He dug around the ice, until finally grabbing a cool bottle of water.

"Here.." he murmured, giving the bottle to the sweaty jock walking his way. Who in return, quickly snatched the bottle and ran back to where the rest of the team were practicing.

Tino trudged back to his seat, glancing over at the football team in dejection.

" _I should be there practicing with them..."_

Yes, ladies and gents! It had been 3 months since football season had started, and the school's record this season was terrible… to say the least; with the team losing 4 games and winning only 1.

Now, Tino was no psychologist. Hell, he would argue that his worst trait _was_ the fact that he couldn't quite read people. That being said, if he had to pinpoint the causation of the abysmal performances of the team, he'd argue that it'd have to do with Shane Oman and Aaron Samuels.

He wasn't exactly too clued in with the drama that occurred around school, but from what everyone was talking about Aaron Samuels hooked up with Shane Oman's girlfriend.

No wait! It was Shane Oman _who_ hooked up with Aaron Samuel's girlfriend.

… somebody hooked up with somebody else… and that was about all that Tino knew.

He sighed. " _Well, being Water-Boy isn't_ _ **that**_ _bad."_ He thought to himself. "… _at least I still get to come to practice… err, even if I don't actually get to do it myself."_

"TINO!" yelled Coach Carr from across the field. "WATER! … NOW!"

Tino slowly got up again, walking over to the orange water cooler. And as he slowly trudged it across the field, he couldn't help but crack a small smile for acting too much like himself.

He was worrying too much. And if there was anything this school had taught him, it was **not to sweat the small stuff.**

... and then he got hit by a football (ouch).

* * *

 **G** retchen Weiners was beginning to feel small beads of sweat form on her forehead, as she walked the empty North Shore hallways.

It had been 10 minutes since she left class for a "bathroom break" and as she rushed down to the 3rd floor bathroom, she was sure it would only a matter of time before Ms. Norbury sent up a "search party" to go find her.

She opened the bathroom door and saw a hysterical Regina George weeping by the bathroom stalls, and an awkward Karen Smith trying to comfort her.

"Regina are you-"

"-Who told Aaron?" she snapped back.

Gretchen shifted from side to side, a desperate uneasiness slowly growing in her. "Told Aaron what?"

"Don't _bullshit_ me, Gretch!" spewed Regina, a strange taste of venom, evident in her tone. "No one else knew about what I did in the projection room above the auditorium expect for us and Heron."

"…and now the whole school knows you've been screwing Shane Oman, instead of studying of SATs." Murmured Karen. "At this rate you're never going to get into college, Reg."

Gretchen bit her lip. "Not helping Karen." She mumbled.

Regina smashed her fist against the ceramic washroom floor and let out a little scream, the oh-so familiar apathetic attitude, now disintegrating into utter chaos; like a thunder cloud getting ready to strike…

… and Gretchen was sure that she was the one that the lightning would hit.

"We can fix this," she murmurs with faint strength. "I'm sure Aaron has a side chick or something… we can frame him; that should waver the attention of the school."

Regina got up slowly, her otherwise porcelain face now tainted with the stain of dripping mascara. "Well, whatever it is… do it _quick_."

And with that, she makes her way out of the bathroom; probably to go find Shane _or_ a potential side chick for Aaron.

Gretchen sighs, leaning against the backwall. "Do you trust Cady?" she suddenly asks, turning to Karen.

"Well, she bought me those beauty smoothies from the mall this one time, and she promised me to help me with Math homework."

Gretchen raises an eyebrow out of disbelief. "But all those things are so… little."

Karen shrugs. "… it meant a lot though." She mumbles. "Anyway, I have to go meet Seth Makowski."

"Your cousin?"

"Yeah," she says proudly, while picking up her purse. "We're using study period to go on a date."

Gretchen wishes to protest at just how _wrong_ that sounded, but doesn't have to energy to; and so decides against it. "Have fun," she mumbles, watching Karen (excitedly) walk out the bathroom door.

Gretchen stands there silently for a while; alone. Until she decides to trudge back to class, before Ms. Norbury, herself, comes down to find her.

A million things pacing around her mind. But none so apparent than the thought of **just how foolish she must be,** ** _to care so little_** **about the little things.**


End file.
